Authors: Kathleen O'Neal Gear

It Sleeps in Me (8 page)

BOOK: It Sleeps in Me

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Against her lips, he whispered, “Forgive me for ever leaving you. But you know why I did it.”

“No. I never knew why.”

The only sound in the world was the roar of blood rushing in her ears. When his kisses grew more passionate, she shoved away and stared at him.

“I—I have to think about this. About the three days. When I decide, I’ll send word. Where will you be?”

He exhaled haltingly and clenched his hands into fists at his sides. It surprised her that he was shaking. “Don’t send a messenger, Sora. After all we’ve been through together, if you’re going to tell me to go away, I expect you to do it yourself.”

Skinner held her gaze for several long moments before he turned and walked out of the temple.

As soon as he ducked through the front entrance, shouts rose. Sora sprinted from the temple and threw back the curtain.

“Weapons aren’t necessary!”
Skinner shouted.

Wink hurried toward him with five guards. Her graying hair and yellow dress whipped in the wind that blasted the mound top.

Two guards grabbed Skinner’s arms, while the other two kept their spears aimed at his belly. The remaining guard, Far Eye, trotted toward Sora.

Skinner said something to Wink—something Sora couldn’t hear—and Wink gave him a small, satisfied smile that made Sora’s spine stiffen. What had he said?

As the guards dragged him away, he struggled to look back, to glance over his shoulder at her.

Just before the guards hustled him down the stairs, out of her sight, he shouted, “Sora, come to me!”

Wink’s eyes shot to Sora and narrowed, as though daring her to answer.

When she didn’t, Wink followed the guards down the stairs.

Far Eye bowed. “The matron instructed me to guard your house, Chieftess. I’ll be outside this door if you need me.”

In a low voice, she asked, “What did War Chief Skinner say to Wink before they hauled him away?”

Far Eye straightened. The geometric tattoos that covered his face and arms looked faint against his brown skin. “He said, ‘I just need a few more days.’”

“Did the matron answer?”

“Yes, but I didn’t hear her words, I’m sorry.”

What had Skinner meant? A few more days to do what? To finish saying the things he needed to? Wink would not have given him a satisfied smile if she’d thought that’s what he’d meant. She would have snarled some unpleasant comment. Had they been talking about something else?

She walked back into her house, down the dim hallway, and straight to the chamber where she’d spent her childhood.

She lifted the curtain and stood in the entry, her fists clenched, staring at the basket.

She’d been hearing them since dawn, but in the past hand of time their voices had grown much louder. The pendants, the headdresses, the anklets he’d made for her …

They wept.

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, ROCKFISH PACED BEFORE THE FIRE in their personal chamber, his brown shirt waffling around his legs. His gray hair reflected the orange shade of the firelight. “Wink wouldn’t tell me why she ordered War Chief Skinner out of town, but one of the guards said he’d been harassing you. Is that true?”

She had never seen him like this, seething, his eyes flashing.

“Not harassing—that’s too strong a word,” Sora said as she pulled her dress over her head and tossed it onto their sleeping bench. She had a council meeting with the elders in one hand of time. She needed to change and prepare before they arrived.

“What does he want?”

Sora propped her foot on the bench to unlace her leggings. “I don’t really know, Rockfish,” she lied. “When he first arrived, he said that before Flint died, he asked Skinner to bring me a message.”

“What was the message?”

Naked, she walked to the basket where her clean clothing lay folded and removed the lid. Rockfish’s eyes traced the lines of her slender body, lingering on her full breasts, then dropping to her long legs.

As she sorted through the dresses, she said, “He still hasn’t told me the message.”

“Why not?”

“How do I know?” she replied, irritated. “He seems to think this is some sort of guessing game.”

Rockfish smoothed his hand over his wrinkled forehead, as though exasperated. “How old is he?”

She gestured lightly. “I don’t know. My age. Thirty-two winters or a little more. Why?”

“Because he acts like an insolent boy. I saw the way he looked at you, Sora.”

From a locked chamber inside her, Flint’s voice seeped out: “
He looked at you the wrong way, Sora!”

She jerked out a red dress with yellow diamonds woven around the throat and hem. The warp of the cloth was combed cane threads; the weft was finely spun buffalo hair.

As she slipped it over her head, she curtly said, “What way was that, my husband?”

With a distinct chill in his voice, he said, “He looked at you like the two of you were lovers.”

“I’m with you every day, all day, Rockfish. How could we possibly—”

“I wasn’t with you when you went to negotiate the release of the hostages with Chief Blue Bow. You told me you didn’t want me there.”

“That’s right. I needed you here while I was away.” She pulled her long black hair out of her dress and fluffed it around her shoulders. “So, you think I really went north to Oak Leaf Village to sleep with my new lover? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, I …” He stopped, shook his head, and turned away. “Gods, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

For the past ten or eleven moons, he’d been progressively less able to perform in their bedchamber. She suspected that’s what this was really about. She always told him it didn’t matter, that they’d
try again later. But when later came, he was sound asleep. In truth, it didn’t bother her. Not really. There were times when she longed for a more vigorous man, but not often. The only time her desires had almost driven her to someone else’s arms was that morning—and she regretted the incident with Skinner.

He said, “I know I don’t have the energy of younger men, Sora, and because I’m not always there when you need me, I—”

“You
are
always there when I need you. What is this sudden insecurity?”

“Don’t patronize me. You are a woman of great passions. That’s one of the things I love most about you, and”—he paused to glance at her—“and I saw the way you looked at
him,
Sora.”

The dread in his voice touched her. Honestly, she said, “Skinner was my former husband’s best friend. For a long time, he was my friend. I do love him. But not in the way you think. Skinner and I have never been lovers, Rockfish. Please put that worry out of your heart. We have more important things to think about. The elders will be here soon.”

She walked to the place where she’d left her copper falcon pendant and fumbled to tie it beneath her hair.

“Here, let me help you.” He came across the floor, gently pushed her hair aside, kissed the back of her neck, and finished tying the leather ends. “I’ve never been a jealous man. You know that. I just—”

“Don’t explain. It’s over. By now, he’s on his way back to Oak Leaf Village, and I’ll probably never see him again.
You’ll
never see him again.”

Rockfish sighed in relief and gave her a remorseful smile. His wrinkles suddenly looked deeper, their patterns more intricate. He stroked her hair. “I love you very much, Sora.”

“And I love you.” She brushed his arm with her hand. “Now, let’s get to the council chamber in case someone arrives early. I don’t want any of the elders to have to wait for me.”

He nodded and followed her to the door and down the torchlit hallway.

As he pulled back the council chamber curtain, he softly said, “Forgive me. I don’t know what came over me.”

She looked up into his sad brown eyes and smiled. “If I ever had any doubts about your affection, I don’t now. Perhaps this has been good for us.”

She ducked into the council chamber.

In the short time he’d been in Blackbird Town, Skinner had disrupted every part of her life, and the lives of the people who mattered most to her. He was like a spark thrown into a pile of dry tinder.

Despite what she’d said about it being good for them, she feared the spark was just about to catch.

SORA SAT ON A MAT BEFORE THE FIRE IN THEIR BEDCHAMBER, staring at the low flames that danced in the fire hearth.

The council meeting had been heated. At the end, she’d begged the elders to consider sending only a small war party, as a show of their support, and only in exchange for the release of their hostages. War Chief Feather Dancer had taken her side, flatly stating that he would strongly recommend against sending large numbers of warriors into an unknown land to fight an unknown people. But that hadn’t settled the matter. The matrons’ votes had been split. Wink and Black Birch, matron of the Bald Cypress Clan, had voted in favor of joining forces with Chief Blue Bow to try to obtain the stone; Wood Fern and Wigeon against. Wood Fern and Wigeon despised the Loon People. They refused to establish an alliance with the people they had, only two days past, voted to wage war against. It had been their council votes that had forced Wink and Sora into the decisive chunkey game.

Why didn’t I foresee that this might happen?

The council members had finally agreed to delay their vote until they had more information. They had called in War Chief Grown
Bear and sent him back to Blue Bow with a message that they wanted to speak with Blue Bow in person before they made such a momentous decision.

It did not end the matter, but it bought Sora a little time to work on the individual matrons, especially Wink. If she could convince her old friend this was a bad idea, it would secure the vote.

Sora was dead tired, but her body refused to sleep. After three hands of time tossing and turning, keeping Rockfish awake, she’d risen and built up the fire to stay warm while she considered the other matter that demanded her attention.

What was she going to do about Skinner?

Was he, even now, waiting for her in one of
their
places in the forest?

She closed her eyes.

Why was he doing this?

Skinner might be insane. In that case, if she was truly his friend, she would hire a priest to find his lost reflection-soul and bring it back to his body.

The one possibility neither she nor Wink had mentioned was the frightening thought that Skinner might be a Raven Mocker.

Of all the witches, Raven Mockers were the most dreaded. They flew through the air in fiery shapes, their arms outstretched like wings, with sparks trailing behind them. They could take any shape they wanted: that of an owl, a cougar, or a wolf, whatever allowed them to get close to the person they desired to harm. When their victim was finally dying, they searched out his reflection-soul, usually as seen in a cup of water, and swallowed it, hoping to add days or winters to their own life. For a time after the reflection-soul had been swallowed, it waged war on the Raven Mocker’s body, trying to take it over.

But if she had actually spoken to Flint’s reflection-soul, surely he would have told her that Skinner was a Raven Mocker. She felt certain he would have pleaded for her to help him.

Please, there’s something I must ask you.

She ran a hand through her long black hair. Too many questions without answers.

As though her souls were struggling to get her to connect the disparate pieces of a puzzle, she kept thinking about Rockfish’s discussions with Wink about the jade, and the satisfied smile Wink had given Skinner. It seemed odd that Skinner had appeared on exactly the same morning as War Chief Grown Bear.

Could they be working together?

A wave of fear coursed through her. Perhaps Oak Leaf Village had made a secret alliance with Blue Bow to weasel into a more favorable Trade relationship. Or perhaps, in exchange for the return of their hostages, Oak Leaf Village had agreed to send warriors after the jade?

Then again, what if it was more than a village-to-village agreement? What if the matron of Water Hickory Clan knew about it? Like all Water Hickory Clan villages, Skinner’s chief, Fireberry, answered to Matron Wood Fern. Was that why Wood Fern had voted against allying with Blue Bow? She already had a secret agreement to get the stone?

Sora massaged her brow. If Water Hickory Clan won a glorious victory and returned home with canoeloads of jade, it would elevate them above the Shadow Rock Clan. That would mean Wink would have to step down, and Wood Fern would replace her as the high matron of the Black Falcon Nation.

She heaved a tired sigh. While that made some sense, it didn’t explain why Skinner would pretend to be Flint. Skinner would have been as much a distraction if he’d blurted out that he loved her as he was trying to act like her former husband.

The simplest explanation, she hated to admit, was still the most frightening—he
was
Flint. He was Flint, and he desperately needed to talk to her.

“
Give me three more days
.”

She silently rose to her feet and ducked beneath the bedchamber door curtain. At this time of night, only two torches lit the long hallway, both in holders near the front entrance.

She tiptoed through the darkness until she reached the curtain, then walked out into the gusting wind. Her long black hair swirled around her face, almost obscuring her vision of Far Eye until she captured it in her hand.

“Chieftess,” Far Eye greeted and bowed. “Do you need something?”

“I’m going for a walk. There’s no need for you to come. I’ll just be wandering around town.”

“But Matron Wink said—”

“Your aunt ordered you to guard my house, not me.”

Far Eye seemed to be mulling that over. “Are you certain you don’t wish me to accompany you?”

“I prefer for you to stand guard here. If my husband wakes, explain where I am.”

“Yes, Chieftess.”

Sora pulled her feather cape tightly around her shoulders and walked to the stairs. As she climbed down, she gazed out across the seven mounds of Blackbird Town. Moonlight glittered from the rooftops and silvered the dark, swaying trees.

On a windy night eighteen winters ago, she’d sneaked out of this house to meet Flint. She remembered it as though it were yesterday. She’d become a woman three moons before, and her heart was flushed with the newfound freedom. Her mother had been carefully arranging feasts for her to meet elite young men from advantageous clans. Unfortunately, when a feast was given, it was impossible to screen out all of the less-desirable suitors. Skinner, the son of Oak Leaf Village’s matron, had been invited. Flint had not, but he’d tagged along to keep his best friend company on the journey.

When Sora had first been led into the crowd of young men by her mother, dressed in a brilliant red feathered cape and copper headdress, all of the warriors had stared in awe. Not only was she destined to be high chieftess of the Black Falcon Nation, as the daughter of Yellow Cypress she was considered divine, descended directly from Black Falcon himself.

She had smiled out at the men and seen Flint standing slightly
behind Skinner. His mouth had opened, and he’d stared at her as though she were too beautiful to be real. While the other warriors attempted to impress her, he’d stood at the edge of the gathering, smiling shyly every time he caught her eye. He was such a handsome youth, a head taller than anyone else, muscular, with large black eyes. Toward the end of the feast, Skinner had introduced Flint. She’d extended her hands, palms up, to greet him, and when he’d placed his hands atop hers, it was as though she’d been struck by lightning. A jolt went through her. He’d felt it, too. She could tell from the strange sparkle in his eyes.

At nightfall, just before she was to retire, he’d slipped through the crowd, taken her arm, and pulled her close to whisper, “
My canoe is stowed in the forest just past the burned-out tree. Meet me. Please.
” Then he’d bowed and placed two fingers beneath his nostrils.

In that instant, a common gesture of respect had become something more … .

She’d found him sitting on the gunwale of his dugout canoe, waiting for her. They’d talked of their lives, and dreams. He’d longed to be a Spirit Healer. She wanted to be a good chieftess. He’d made her laugh. When they’d climbed into the canoe together, he’d kissed her with more passion than she’d ever thought possible. At last, he’d pulled her dress up over her hips, but instead of immediately coupling with her, like every other young man she’d loved in the past three moons, he’d just stared at her, his eyes like enormous dark moons. Reverently, he’d whispered, “May I touch you, Sora?”

“Yes. I want you to.”

Instead of touching her with his hands, as she’d expected, he’d touched her with his mouth, his lips moving expertly, leisurely, striking fire wherever they lingered. Without even realizing it, she began to lift rhythmically against his mouth. When she thought she couldn’t stand it any longer, the sudden warmth of his tongue startled her.

“Don’t be afraid, Sora.”

“I’m not afraid.”

He’d moved her legs farther apart, then kissed his way down to
her opening and slipped his tongue inside. He’d alternated between wet hot strokes and murmuring about how beautiful she was, how soft her skin.

They hadn’t coupled that night. She hadn’t even seen him again for three days, but every day had been filled with a sublime euphoria of anticipation.

When Sora’s sandal reached the last stair, she strode down the path, past Priest Teal’s mound, and crossed the bridge that spanned Raccoon Creek. The water burbled as it flowed over rocks into Persimmon Lake.

Just as she had that night eighteen winters ago, she stepped onto the lakeshore trail breathing hard. Ahead of her stood a slithering line of dark houses. The homes of commoners measured three or four paces wide and perhaps six long, tiny in comparison to the grand, elite buildings that graced the mound tops. She quietly walked past them. A few dogs, sleeping outside, growled at her until they realized who she was; then they flopped back down and watched her with moonlit eyes. Occasionally a tail thumped the ground.

By the time she reached the burned-out tree, she was cold to the bone. The wind had whipped her long hair into a wild wealth of tangles. She lowered herself to a fallen log on the shore and gazed out across the wind-churned water. Silver-crested waves curled across the surface like ribbons.

If he was there, at their secret place in the forest, he would see her and come.

She clutched her feathered cape closed and shivered. The first six moons after she’d met Flint had been like riding a hurricane. Her mother had ordered her to stay away from him, explaining that Flint wasn’t a high-status man, that maybe in the future, when he’d proven himself in war, Sora could see him. Seven days later, she’d traveled with her mother to Oak Leaf Village to work out a Trade agreement. Skinner had come, supposedly to court her. Instead, he’d told her Flint was waiting for her in the forest. She’d sneaked out at midnight and run all the way.

That night, he’d lain back in the fragrant spring grass beneath the overarching branches of a redbay tree and propped his head on his hands. Smiling at her, he’d said, “Stretch out beside me, Sora. I’ve dreamed of nothing but you for days.”

“You’ve filled my dreams, too.”

His gaze admiringly went over her face, then dropped to her dress front. As he began to loosen the ties, she bravely moved her hand down his shirt until she felt the swell of his manhood.

Against her lips, he groaned, “Take me in your mouth, Sora.”

She lifted his war shirt awkwardly, not really certain what to do, but as his manhood thrust up, her own desires stirred. She used her lips and tongue to gently stroke him until he grabbed her head and began pushing her down on him.

“Like this,” he moaned. “I won’t break.”

She’d used more and more force, until he was thrusting into her throat so continuously she couldn’t breathe. He seemed to realize it. He withdrew and crawled on top of her. For ten heartbeats he just lay there, panting against her hair; then he whispered, “I’m going to join with you now, Sora. Is that all right?”

She smiled. “Yes, I’ve been waiting for that.”

His hand was shaking when he opened her and slid inside. Through gritted teeth, he said, “I’ll try to be gentle, but I’m—”

BOOK: It Sleeps in Me

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